And If I Only Could Make A Deal With God
by TealcIsTheBomb
Summary: Read Vindicata's Running Up That Hill First! Shawn survived well physically anyways. A piece of his soul was left when he was 'rescued' and he's not the only one who lost something of himself.
1. And If I Only Could

Shawn limped lightly into the kitchen where Henry and Gus were. He gave both of them a halfhearted smile as he grabbed his handful of meds and a bottle of water. He cracked the seal and began to take his pills one by one, he used to count how many pills a day he was taking but the amount and dosage times changed so often he gave up months ago.

"Hey Shawn I am going into the office tomorrow if you want to join me." He saw the hopeful look in his best friend's face and he didn't want to disappoint.

Shawn nodded as he popped another pill and took another swallow of water. Gus' face lit up at that simple nod and for the first time in almost eight months Shawn felt a smidgen of happiness. Shawn turned to where his dad was getting out chicken and vegetables to prepare for dinner. Henry opened a few drawers looking for something till he withdrew a long chef's knife.

_Breskovic pulled the knife down his chest almost excruciatingly slow. The cut wasn't too deep but it was deep enough to burn like hell and to keep a steady drizzle of blood flowing from it. Shawn couldn't scream, shout or even whimper after being in this den of torture for almost two weeks. His vocal cords were stretched beyond repair after the first three days. _

_Ten long shallow cuts later Breskovic put the knife down and washed his hands in a basin of water. Studying his handiwork the man smiled. "I've had fun today." Shawn would have sighed in relief but he caught that glimmer in his torturer's eyes that said he wasn't quite done. The silver haired man nodded at one of his lackeys who walked up to Shawn with a pail. "Don't get his face." The muscle bound man nodded and then splashed the bucket's contents on his torso._

_The smell hit his nostrils first causing his eyes to water, there was a reason he didn't use bleach to clean his place. Three seconds later the burn the cuts had earlier grew exponentially to a roaring soul searing fire. Shawn opened his mouth in a silent scream as the men around him laughed._

Shawn dropped his bottle of water and the other men in the _room_ looked up at him prepared to catch him if he collapsed, _again_. He was breathing quickly and he could feel his heart beating in his throat, throwing the remaining pills across the kitchen and as fast as he could go he went out the backdoor and towards the beach.

Gus stood and made to go after the man but Henry stopped him. "He never goes far, Gus, it's better to leave him alone when he gets like this." Gus nodded and got another knife out to help finish the dinner preparations. "We lost him in that cabin, didn't we?" Gus stopped his chopping and looked up at the older man. "I mean he's here physically _but._" He shook his head. "He lost what makes him." Henry turned his hands in confusion.

"_Him?"_ Henry nodded. "Mr. Spencer we _all_ lost of piece of ourselves in that cabin."

"_Yeah_ but not as much as he did."

Side by side the men chopped and cubed in silence.

Shawn had to get away from their pitying stares, he hated it when he had flashbacks when others were around. It was always easier when he had the dreams, when he dreamt of his time in that place he would wake up in a cold sweat and silent scream.

_Silence_.

He had been unable to talk since about day three in the cabin and despite the fact that the doctors had said his larynx had repaired Shawn was still unable to do anything involving sound. Shawn got to his favorite spot on the beach he bent over and rolled the jeans on his right leg to just above his knee. Putting his fingers in between the plastic and silicone he broke the seal and propped the prosthesis in the sand. Shawn sat heavily on the grainy ground and watched the sun set.


	2. Make A Deal With God

**A/N: I know I know it's been a while since I updated but I promise that it won't be almost a month before my next update.  
**

**(****And How Everyone Makes A Deal With The Devil)**

**7 ½ Months Ago**

Shawn woke up to the familiar sound of Breskovic's boots approaching the room he was in. As the door opened to the tiny space Shawn involuntarily tried to cover his eyes at the onslaught of sunlight but the wire ties that bound him dug into his flesh causing the healing scabs to open back up. He would have whimpered at the burning in both his eyes and wrists but seeing as one of his torturer's favorite pastimes was choking he had to settle for ragged breaths.

"Mr. Spencer. How do you feel today?" Every morning Shawn was asked this question and every morning the words were filled with mock. At first Shawn would answer with his own brand of sarcasm by after his third day in the hands of this man, _well,_ he was forced to settle for spitting at him or a glare. Today Shawn did the glare routine.

Breskovic gave a hearty laugh and sipped at his steaming cup of tea. "I am contemplating on what to do with you today." The older man stood and paced about the room, the soft thud of his boots matched the ticking of the second hand of his watch. "Let's see." He tapped at his chin with the forefinger on his free hand. "I've had fun silencing you, watching your eyes beg with hunger, and showed you how to keep extra clean." He leaned over the bed and patted Shawn's cheek as if to tell him to buck up then resumed his pacing. "Then I did some boring things, _well_ boring to me, my men seemed to enjoy it." Breskovic paused midstride and place his cooling tea down on the dresser. A sadistic smile crossed his face as he approached the bed.

Shawn's breathing hitched at the look on the other man's face. The eyes, normally soulless, were lit up with childlike enjoyment. The only time his eyes sparked like that was when he was about to torture Shawn. He leaned over and whispered in Shawn's ear. "I just thought of something new." He stood up and dug in his jacket pockets withdrawing an antique silver Zippo. "Do you know what burning flesh smells like, Mr. Spencer? Human flesh, I mean, not something like that steak your father grills almost every weekend." The bed Shawn was strapped to sagged under the other man's weight as he sat down. "It is a smell…." He flipped open the lighter and flicked his thumb over the flint, the yellow orange flame danced as it was brought closer to Shawn's cheek. "You will never forget." Shawn's eyes widened and his breath came out harsher as the heat on his face became almost unbearable. He sighed in relief when the man holding the lighter twisted his wrist a bit snapping the lid shut and extinguishing the flame.

Breskovic smirked at his reaction. "You know when you came to that warehouse and made that deal with me I almost considered ending it quickly." The sound of the Zippo opening and the flame being brought back to life made Shawn flinch. "I am so glad that I did not."

Shawn's mouth stretched into a silent scream as the flame was put his side, the flesh bubbled and blistered under the extreme heat

##########################################################

He came to slowly, his room full of the men who had spent the last two weeks using him as a toy for their sick amusement. They parted as their boss walked to the figure in the bed. "I have grown tired of you Mr. Spencer." He spun on his heel and walked away throwing over his shoulder. "Make sure they can identify the body."

Shawn knew he should've been scared, sad, or even angry that he was about to die but only one thing stayed with him after he flashed on his favorite moments with the people he loved, only one word. _Finally._

_##########################################################  
_

Unbeknownst to the occupants in the cabin they were not alone. Ten people dressed in black from head to toe were surrounding the cabin; two of them perched on the incline one hundred yards away watched as the others positioned themselves readying their strike.

"Mr. Spencer, are we sure this is the place?" Fear and trepidation filled Gus' voice as he adjusted the grip on his binoculars.

"I'm sure of it Gus." Henry had spent the last two weeks contacting every last one of his old informants, calling in a few favors, and had to make more than a few deals with some not so pleasant people. He ran a hand over his face and nearly jumped out of skin at the sound of leaves crunching and twigs snapping. He dropped his binoculars and withdrew his pistol prepared to fire. Gus caught the movement out of the side of his vision and wrapped his hand around the pistol that was tucked in his waistband.

"Don't shoot, it's Lassiter." The hissed whisper had both men visibly relaxing and resuming their spying. The heavy sound of combat boot came to a stop about five feet behind the crouched men.

"Are your _thugs _ready, detective?" Carlton clenched his jaw in anger.

"They are not my _thugs_ and yes, they are." He shifted his stance and adjusted his grip on his assault rifle. "Is your information kosher?" The glare Henry shot the man had him both cringing inward and outward.

"It's kosher." Henry stood and went to put on the mask that was tucked away in his pocket but was stopped by Carlton. "_What?"_ He spat the word with menace.

Carlton carefully reeled in his angry retort. "You need to stay here in case there are any…. _stragglers._" Henry nodded, Carlton shifted again, and Gus just continued his spying. "Well I'll be going then." Carlton donned his own mask and checked the clip on his assault rifle, satisfied that everything was in good working order he left the two perched men.

They waited in silence till Gus couldn't take it anymore, which wasn't very long. "Mr. Spencer what if he's….." He trailed off mentally cursing himself for that question to be how he broke the silence but it had been on his mind since that day in the warehouse. He shut his eyes for a moment prepared for some sort of anger to be directed at him but none was, in fact, all he heard was a sad sounding sigh.

Henry swallowed the fear that question caused. "He's a fighter Gus, too stubborn." Henry knew it was a possibility that his son was dead, a _very_ definite possibility, and it grew with each passing moment. "_He's too stubborn._"

Both Gus and Henry were in a strong state of denial, well everyone was, most of the SBPD figured that one day Shawn would just come waltzing into the station, sipping on a smoothie, and make some obscure eighties reference like nothing ever happened. But somewhere deep in the back of their minds they knew that nothing would ever be normal again. "That he is Mr. Spencer." But for the moment the denial helped them get through all of this so they held on to it in a death grip.

Silence fell over them once more as they kept a vigilant watch on the cabin and the team as they closed in. As soon as Carlton was positioned at the entrance the signal was given and the mid-afternoon air was filled with the sound of breaking glass, splintering wood, and gunfire. Just as quickly as the cacophony started, it ended. There were no shouts, there was no chatter on the walkie Henry had, there was just silence. Unnerving, hair standing up on the back of your neck, silence. Henry tightened his jaw in anticipation while Gus kept shifting as the silence drew out longer than expected and as soon as Carlton emerged from the front door and waved the all clear to them they were scrambling. Henry was already on the porch before Gus could even get halfway down the hill. He tried shoving past the detective but was stopped when Carlton held out his hand.

"Henry, we need to give them a moment." This time when Henry shot his I-will-kill-you look Carlton remained stoic. "They need to clean up." Henry wanted to shout, scream, cuss, and beat the living shit out of the man that was impeding him from seeing his son, he needed to see Shawn regardless if he was alive or dead. "De-tec-tive, I am _warning_ you."

A panting Gus arrived by this time. "Warning…..him…..about…what?"

"I can't let you guys into the room because the medics are giving Spencer a once over."

"He's…..alive?" Carlton's eyes widened behind his mask, not realizing that he hadn't mention Shawn being alive till just now.

"Henry I'm sorry in the confusion…."He trailed off when he saw the utter relief in the older man's face. Henry just waved him off and sat heavily in the closest chair to them.

He let out a shuddering sigh. "He's alive?" Tears he didn't know he was capable of threatened. Gus knelt in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder, their eyes met. "He's alive, Gus." Pure relief was evident in his tone, Gus nodded and blinked back a few tears of his own.

"Too stubborn."

Henry gave a mirthless chuckle. "Too stubborn."

The sound of several pairs of boots coming out of the back room had them looking up. One by one the other members of the team were dragging out bodies, some of which Gus recognized from the warehouse. He looked away and suddenly found the wall interesting but he listened to the footsteps, he could tell the difference between the ones returning and the ones that were dragging a body away, after a count of eight the footfalls stopped.

"Henry, Guster? We can go in the room now." Gus snapped his head to the door of the little room and before he realized it his feet had carried him through the threshold. Henry was right behind him nearly breathing down his neck. They corralled themselves into the space and stood against the far wall, too shocked to do anything else.

The sight before them was one that would forever be seared into their memories. The man on the bed was a shadow of his former self. In two weeks everything that was innately Shawn had been taken away; he had lost nearly twenty pounds, his skin was pale and his normally jovial features were drawn and taut. He looked like a corpse and by the way the medics were working on him he wasn't far from it. Two medics were working quietly but quickly as they started IVs and hooked him up to a heart monitor while the third was at Shawn's head stroking his hair. Both Gus and Henry were confused by the action till they saw a tear fall to Shawn's forehead.

"_O'Hara_?" Henry and Gus' assumptions were confirmed when the figure at Shawn's head looked up.

"Carlton." Juliet removed her mask and gave her best defiant glare she could muster at the moment. "You. _Called_. Him. And then _he_ called me." One of the medics looked up and just as quickly went back to work, completely intent on not drawing attention. "Take it off, _Evan._" The same medic that looked up earlier sighed deeply and complied.

"Baby sis." He nodded at a very pissed looking Juliet. She didn't even dignify him with an answer she just went back to stroking Shawn's hair. "Lassiter we need to move him."

Gus and Henry went to the bed immediately to say something to the unconscious form but nothing came out. Henry settled for a kiss on Shawn's forehead, like he had done so many years ago and Gus made his hand to a fist and bumped it against Shawn's slightly curled hand.

"Is he going to be alright?" Gus' eyes never left Shawn and he took in the various injuries that had been caused over the past two weeks; several cuts and bruises covered his body, his wrists had deep gouges caused by whatever they had bound him with, and his right leg looked like it belonged to a corpse. Gus quickly accessed his vast memory of medical conditions and knew immediately how much danger his friend was in.

Evan shook his head. "It's too soon to tell." Juliet had enough she all but ran out of the room and cabin looking for a private place to break down. A gurney was rushed into the little room, Henry and Gus were pushed out of the way and before they knew it Shawn was loaded up and whisked away.

"Henry, Guster?" Carlton shifted uncomfortably. "We need to go."

As they stepped outside to the cool autumn air they were assaulted with the smell of gasoline and something else that couldn't be placed. Gus kept his eyes straight ahead as they quickened their steps toward the cars. A flash of heat immediately to their back, though, had them spinning toward the source involuntarily. The cabin _wooshed_ as the flames grew and engulfed it fully and about fifty feet away from the cabin an agent lit a match and threw it on the pile of bodies. Immediately the skin on the now dead gangsters began to blacken and peel back from their skeletons from the extreme heat. Henry quickly grabbed and turned a gagging Gus back toward the woods.

"Did you get them all?"

Carlton stopped and his entire body tensed. "No, Breskovic wasn't in there." Henry cursed under his breath because he knew as long as that bastard was left alive everyone Shawn knew and loved was in danger but Shawn was especially in danger just because he lived.

"But we have Shawn back, right, that's all what matters we have Shawn back."

"God I hope so, kid. I hope so."

**Present:**

Shawn blinked against the glare the sun caused with the salty water. He sighed and allowed a small content smile to cross his face, he absolutely loved this spot. Here he could be alone away from the pitying stares, he could just be him and not feel like he was letting people down. He lay back in the sand, not caring about the grains that would hand on for day, and closed his eyes. Slowly, _carefully_ he accessed his memory of that place, bits and pieces fell into place but it wasn't enough to draw a full picture for him. He delved deeper into his memories but they came out fuzzy, warped and all wrong_; Breskovic was smiling at him as he held the lighter to Shawn's side then Breskovic's face changed, his hair became darker and his eyes turned hazel and then it was Shawn, holding the lighter, laughing as the flesh under the yellow-orange flame bubbled. _

"You gonna come in for dinner kid?" Shawn's eyes snapped open and he wiped a hand over his tired face, not surprised to find it wet. "You ok kid?" Shawn nodded, sat up, and reached out to his prosthesis to help him stand. Henry reached out to help him but Shawn just shrugged off his father's attempts. Shawn pushed down on the prosthesis with his right leg to activate the suction and began walking toward the house.

"I'm glad you're going to the office tomorrow."

Shawn just gave his dad a side long glance.

"Really made Gus happy."

Shawn nodded and continued walking.

"You know you don't have to go because you feel like you owe him, right?"

Shawn didn't do anything to acknowledge his father's question.

"_Shawn?"_

He stopped short and almost slipped on the uneven terrain. Henry instinctively reached out his arm and wrapped it around his son's waist. "I got you, kid, I got you."

Shawn look into his dad's worried eyes. _I know dad, but who has you?_

__**Remember reviews=love  
**

**Skips off to work on Saving Grace  
**


	3. If I Only Could, Be Running Up That Road

Henry watched out the corner of his eye as Shawn 'ate' his dinner and Shawn spied on his father spying on him. After ten minutes of this he diverted his attention solely to the food in front of him as he pushed his fork back and forth through the chicken stir-fry that had long ago gotten cold.

"Do you want me to make you something else, Shawn? It'll be no trouble."

For an instant a look of shock crossed his features and a small glint in his eyes shone but it quickly dulled as he put his fork down and shook his head in the negative. Henry picked up on the glint, though, and he forced himself not to smile because he knew that spark, it was Shawn's 'I'm about to make a smartass comment' eyes. Henry hoped that the Shawn they all knew and loved was still there, he was lost and didn't want to be found, but little slip-ups like this one let Henry know that there was still a micro-speck of hope. Shawn let out a breath, stood and left to go up to his bedroom. Every step that Shawn climbed a dull thump sounded and a stab was sent through both Henry's and Gus' heart. Suddenly they found themselves not hungry anymore.

"He's lost more weight, Mr. Spencer." Gus looked up at the older man as Henry cleared the table and began to scrape their half-eaten and, in Shawn's case, not touched at all dinner into the sink.

"I know Gus." Henry slapped on the water and flicked the switch for the garbage disposal; he put both hands against the counter and leaned heavily against it.

"He's not the only one." Henry unconsciously straightened his stance and pulled up his jeans that had started to sag around his hips. He flicked off the disposal and water and turned to look at Gus.

"I'm sorry." Gus sighed. "I just don't like seeing either of you like this."

"You have room to talk." Henry cringed at the bite in his voice toward the other man. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I'm sorry Gus, I didn't mean that."

"I know." Gus placed a comforting hand on Henry's shoulder. "I'll be here tomorrow at nine sharp." The hand left and the screen door bouncing gently as Gus went to his car.

"_Dammit_." Henry turned back to the sink and began washing the dinner dishes. He scrubbed down the pans, stove, counters, kitchen table, and front of the fridge. He was just about to open said appliance to clean it out and get every nook and cranny of it when he heard a crash from upstairs. He dropped his washcloth and ran up the stairs as quickly as he dared to stop outside of his son's childhood bedroom. The door was cracked and Henry could hear the whimpers and thrashing from inside, he swallowed and slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Ever since Shawn came home this had become a nightly routine that only Henry was aware of. Every night Shawn, about an hour after he fell asleep, would begin whimpering and even sometimes screaming in his sleep but always thrashing, fighting some unforeseen foe. He waited until his son's movement reduced to shaking and sidled up next to his bed. He reached out and ran his hand through his son's sweat drenched hair, Henry knew it wasn't much and Shawn probably didn't even know he was there but he tried the small measurement of comfort. He closed his eyes, while his hand worked on its own accord and listened to the ragged breathing slowed and become more regular. He wanted to take it all away, to make it all better but he was reduced to this; comforting his son while he whimpered and cried in his sleep.

Henry's mind wandered without his permission, his memories rushed forward and he was taken away from the present.

######################################################

Henry was scary silent as he glared at Karen from across her desk. "I'm sorry Henry but you cannot be allowed in on this." Henry felt his jaw tick at that declaration, he was beyond pissed.

"Karen, I don't think you understand, that is my kid out there." He kept his voice level and low as he talked to his former partner. "_Hell, that's both of my kids out there_. I cannot sit back and let your officers 'handle' it."

Karen said nothing as her answer; Henry stood and left the office, the door slamming harshly behind him. He hated to what he's been relegated to, having to sit back as his son went to a desolate town and tried to save his best friend's life while only a handful of officers followed him. He didn't like this; in fact, he hated the whole thing from the investigation that pointed fingers at Breskovic to the threats everyone had received till one of them had been followed through with the abduction of Gus. For two days Shawn hadn't slept, ate, and Henry was pretty sure hadn't stopped moving for two minutes as he searched for the man he considered his brother. Just before his son collapsed from exhaustion the phone call came the one that was only directed toward Shawn, the one said when and where to meet the mobster. In six hours the forces of the SBPD convened and came up with a plan, well minus one, him.

Henry gritted his teeth as he paced the bullpen, flipping the phone in his hand over and over as if it was a Baoding ball missing its twin. It was, in fact, missing its twin and Henry hoped to God that Shawn called him from his soon. After pacing about for ten minutes he decided he couldn't take the stares and the officers pretending to work anymore so he walked directly into the rarely used overtime room and sat on one of the rickety cots. He left the phone on his lap as he sank his head into his palms and concentrated on his breathing as the moments passed. At breath two hundred and thirteen the IPhone buzzed on his leg, his breath caught and one glance at the phone had his heart rate fluttering. The simple 'Shawn' followed by his phone number almost made Henry shout out in joy. He fumbled and nearly dropped the phone in his excitement as he answered.

"Kid! Thank God!" He heard some ragged breathing and friction that sounded like cloth again the mouthpiece. "_Kid?"_

"Mr. Spencer?" A quick sigh of relief followed by a sob. "They have him, they have Shawn and he made them promise and made me promise. I didn't know who else to call. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry, so sorry." The sobbing grew worse and was punctuated with sorries, Henry was frozen on that cot as he processed the information then he was up in a flash and nearly running toward Karen's office.

He slammed the door open and when Karen opened her mouth to protest, Henry put his phone on speaker. "Gus where are you, we need to know." The sobbing slowed but the man's breathing was still hitched.

"About five miles away from an abandoned factory in Templeton, I'm hiding in the woods." He gave a long wavering sigh. "I didn't know who to call, he said to not call the cops. I called you because I knew you would know how to fix this." Henry closed his eyes and swallowed deeply, fully unaware of Karen calling the officers that were supposed to be following his son. The ones who intent was to stop this exact thing from happening. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

_Me too._

_######################################################  
_

A high pitched keening sound brought Henry to the present and his eyes sprung opening. He was still running his hand through Shawn's hair but it was no longer comforting the man. Shawn arched his back and tried to roll away from Henry's touch. His breathing quickened and he curled up into a ball on his left side and began to shake violently.

Henry hovered over his son's form and tried to wake him up, this was by far the worst nightmare he had ever seen Shawn have and it pained Henry that his son couldn't escape even in his sleep. He started to whisper in his son's ear. "I'm here, you're safe. It's ok, you're ok." Shawn's eyes popped open and they locked with Henry's for an instant before they shut again. Shawn's breathing was still ragged but Henry knew he was falling back to sleep.

Henry hated this, every last damn thing about this. His son was broken and he couldn't fix it. He was supposed to be there that day, be on that road with his kids and he was supposed to stop any of this from happening but he wasn't and it happened; now his son was beyond repair. _"Dammit."_ As soon as he was sure that his son was slumbering he stood, his back protesting and popping as he stretched out. Henry knew it was past midnight, it always was when he finally felt his son was safe from his dreams and he could try and get some sleep himself. He went to his bedroom and set about his nightly routine mechanically.

He sat down on the bed, the mattress sagging under his weight and he just looked at the walls. Almost every inch of the wallpaper was covered in photos that Maddie had insisted on putting up and he never bothered to put down. He actually added to the collection with more up to date photos. He followed the timeline of Shawn's life from the pregnancy to the birth to birthdays, holidays, graduation and beyond. In almost every picture Shawn was smiling, smirking, or had a playful glint in his eyes. Henry would give anything to see that smile again but he knew that whatever he had to give, it was not enough, would _never_ be enough. Henry slid his feet under the blanket as he lay down, turned off his lamp, and tried to go to sleep.

######################################################

Shawn opened his eyes and when he was sure his father had ensconced himself in his bed Shawn left his bedroom and went downstairs. The pale light of the television was enough for Shawn to see by as he moved about downstairs and got something to drink for his sore throat. He tried to clear his throat as he sat down on the decades old couch and settled for a long night. He rubbed his swollen vocal cords as he 'watched' the infomercial. He knew that tonight the screaming wasn't only in his head and he felt ashamed because of it. When his father's whisperings woke him up and their eyes met for that instant Shawn saw the helplessness that his father had and he felt even worse.

He leaned forward and removed his prosthesis and the silicone sleeve so he could massage the skin underneath it, even after eight months it hurt. He would give anything to be able to turn back the time and be getting smoothies with Gus that day, instead of letting him go to his other job and get taken from the parking lot. He saw the threats, he knew just how real they were and yet. Shawn shook his head to clear it and fully invested himself into the television program that was trying to peddle off a steam mop. He had six hours before he had to go upstairs and pretend he slept the whole night, so he got as comfortable as he could and watched the glowing electronic.

######################################################

A nondescript man wearing unremarkable clothes walked past the old beach home and nodded at the two others in his crew. He retrieved his cell and dialed a familiar number. "He's still awake...no...yes...Thank you." The nondescript man pocketed his phone and waved over the two men. "Boss just wants me here and he wants you two to split up and go to Detective O'Hara's and Burton Guster's places. Just keep a keen eye out, we don't want things going south." The two men nodded and headed in opposite directions toward their vehicles of choice and went to the new assignments.

**A/N: Shawn is still mute, his inability to talk is psychological not physical so the screams while he's sleeping is involuntary.**


	4. So Much Hate For The Ones We Love

Earlier than he had any right to be up, Henry Spencer was exactly that, and he was pretty sure that he was going to be unable to fall back asleep so he decided it was time to start the day. With his joints and back popping with every stretch he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, after rolling his neck a few times he looked in the mirror that was attached to his dresser and sighed. The man who stared back at him was not the man who he was, this man's eyes were deeply shadowed, his pajamas hung off him loosely and he just looked old. The man ran a hand over his face to wake himself up some more and was about to proceed with getting dressed when he heard voices downstairs. _Loud almost angry voices_ and they were coming from inside his house. Reaching into the nightstand he withdrew his old service weapon and on the balls of his feet he crept out his room and down the stairs.

The voices grew louder and about half way down the flight of steps he was able to make out what they were saying. Henry rolled his eyes and sighed in amusement when he heard the familiar sounds of an informercial seen in passing perhaps a thousand times. The older man went down the remaining stairs more heavily and smiled briefly at the sight before him, Shawn was curled up on the couch, the blanket that was normally draped across the piece of furniture was wrapped around him, and he gave a light snore every now and then . The sight reminded Henry of a simpler time, a time when any illness or injury Shawn may have acquired was solved with late nights on this very couch and too much television. _Oh how I wish that was all he needed._

The older man was just about to wake up the man on the couch so that, he too, could get a start on his day but as he studied the relaxed features on his son he decided against it. Shawn didn't have to be awake while Henry cooked breakfast and he had four hours till Gus was going to show and take him to the office. After flipping the safety on he lay the pistol on the coffee table near the couch where Shawn was slumbering and started to cook breakfast.

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQ

The bacon was almost done when Henry heard the rustling of Shawn waking up so he poked his head into the living room to ask the younger man if he wanted eggs but before his mouth could form the words he was frozen. Shawn was sitting up on the couch, the blanket that had been covering his sleeping form was on the floor and he was staring straight ahead completely unaware that Henry was there. Henry's eyes travelled to the gnarled flesh of his right leg, he rarely saw Shawn without his prosthetic leg and he never saw him without at least the silicone sleeve, for several quiet seconds he studied every groove of the scarred skin.

The unmistakable sound of a clip sliding out of a gun and clicking back into place broke him out of his reverie and his eyes snapped to his son's hands that now held the pistol that Henry had left on the coffee table earlier. Shawn was just staring at it, rotating in his hands and rubbing his fingers over the grooves and bumps taking in every minute detail as if he was going to be tested on it later. The revolving stopped when the barrel was pointed toward the holder, father watched son in shock as Shawn's thumb slipped to the trigger, flipping off the safety in its descent. Instead of shouting at his son, like he wanted to, Henry quickly covered the distance between him and the couch. As he sat down in one fluid motion he reached out his hand, flipped the safety back on and took the weapon from his son's grasp. Shawn's eyes unglazed and he turned toward his father's worried face. "Kid," His son's eyes brimmed with tears and Henry swallowed deeply. "Would you like some eggs?"

Shawn wanted to shake his head in the negative but after what just happened and seeing unshed tears in his father's eyes he nodded and forced a small smile on his face. Henry patted his shoulder twice, stood and went to tend to the bacon that was close to burning but not before he slid the old pistol into his apron pocket.

The younger Spencer closed his eyes and sighed deeply as he listened to the small sounds of his dad cooking coming from the kitchen. He just wanted things to go back to normal, _he needed them to_, opening his eyes he decided to clean up his impromptu sleeping spot. He leaned over and picked up the worn blanket, fingering the old but soft material a genuine smile crossed his face. Not so long ago, when his appendix ruptured in fact, he had spent a few nights wrapped up in this very blanket and sleeping on the couch he was currently sitting on. It was one of the last few times he felt truly and completely safe which was he attributed to his body,_ and mind_, letting him sleep the rest of the night through. He was just grateful that is was a dreamless sleep, _a blissful blank sleep._

He expected he would have nightmares about his time spent in the cabin but what he was experiencing was not nightmares, they were pure, unadulterated, disgusting, terror filled visions that plagued him whenever he closed his eyes for longer than two minutes. An unwanted tear slipped down his cheek, which he wiped away angrily. "Son?" Shawn looked up into the worried face of his father and raised his eyebrows in question. "Everything is ready," The older man rubbed at the back of neck uncomfortably. "Don't you want to..." Motioning with this hand Shawn looked down and saw that he had yet put his prosthesis on yet. Still looking down he gave a small nod and grabbed the silicone sleeve that was resting next to the couch. He continued to avoid eye contact with his father as he placed the sleeve and retrieved the lump of plastic that had fallen over sometime during the night. "I guess I'll get the plates and silverware." The soft footsteps of his father leaving caused Shawn to sigh in relief, he knew that his dad wanted to say something about what happened earlier but Spencer men really did not know what to say in situations like this and with his inability to hold up his side of any conversation, _well_, there was a snowball's chance in hell of a serious discussion happening.

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ Q

Burton 'Gus' Guster pulled the iconic blueberry into the driveway of his friend's childhood, and recently current, home and just stared through the windshield. This morning when he received the text from Mr. Spencer this morning he expected to see a cancellation of plans or even an invite to breakfast. _'He almost did it this time Gus._' The message played over and over again in the salesman's mind; he didn't need to be told what 'it' was because this was not the first time Gus had been sent such a message. Ticking off the times that Gus had either been called or later texted, because it became such a common occurrence, the man got to six before he refused to go any further. "Dammit Shawn." There was no malice or frustration in the words instead it was sadness, nothing but pure sadness because his friend who was usually so full of life was so ready to end it. Not quite ready to face the situation that was waiting for him, he continued to stare at the abode, more specifically the door.

Summer afternoons full of too much ice cream and water hose fights had started at that very door. So many smiles, jokes, and stories had started with him knocking on that crimson piece of wood. On more than one occasion the instant his balled up hand had landed on the door, it would fly open and a blur of brown hair would be the last thing he saw before he was tackled and flat on his back. The man squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose because he also remembered that while he was flat on his back he would scream at Shawn, telling him how stupid he was and how much he hated him. "I'd give anything to get that back, _anything_."

Steeling his nerves to something much stronger than he thought he was capable of the dark skinned man left the safe confines of his Echo and made his way toward the door that no longer held promises of cookouts and the smell of Coppertone but instead silence and fear. "Now or never, _Guster."_ But instead of knocking he used the key that Henry had given him a few months back and went toward the small sounds coming from the kitchen.

Shawn was pushing the food about his plate again while Henry had his back turned washing the pots and pans in the sink. Gus clamped a hand on his best friends shoulder to announce his arrival but instead of a 'typical' reaction the man was blindsided by a hard left to his temple and an arm pressed against his throat. At first Gus didn't realize what on Earth had happened till he found himself looking directly into the murderous eyes of his best friend. _"Sh-"_ The pressure behind the arm grew till Gus could only emit squeaking sounds. The need for oxygen occupied the man's mind so he was unaware of the older Spencer trying to pull his son off till he saw the weathered arms wrapped around the young man's chest and picked him up and off. Gulping for air, Gus's vision improved quickly from the gray tinged it was to full blown technicolor.

"Gus? You ok?" He knew the words were directed to him but his mind was unable to register an answer, after all, his best friend of over thirty years had just tried to choke the life out of him. There was no doubt in the man's mind that Shawn would have continued the pressure, he had never seen anything like that in his friend's eyes, _never._ "Gus!" The shout combined with Henry snapping his fingers in front of his face brought him violently back to reality. The old man gave a loud sigh of relief when he saw Gus's eye unglaze from that of shock to understanding. "That's going to bruise." Henry left the young man on his kitchen floor as he retrieved a hand towel and some crushed ice.

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ

Shawn couldn't believe what just had happened, one moment he was trying to get himself psyched up to eat some breakfast to appease his father and maybe give himself some strength for the day and the next he had his friend pinned to the floor, trying to crush the life out of him. If it wasn't for his father's intervention of literally picking him up and moving him away from the prone form on the floor than Shawn was sure he wouldn't have stopped till Gus's breathing had. Now here he sat at his father's kitchen table watching his friend, buddy, brother, tend to a rapidly bruising neck and temple. He opened his mouth in hopes that, this time, his vocal cords wouldn't fail him and he could say something to the scared looking man but nothing came out, _again._

"Shawn I don't blame you." The words were scratchy and that made Shawn's heart sink even further. "Really I don't, I should've announced myself. I'm sorry." That was the final nail in the coffin for Shawn, his friend was apologizing for something that was in no way his fault. Reflecting back to one of the many childhood training lessons he received, his hands and arms worked and made rough signage that he hoped meant 'Not your fault and I'm sorry.' Gus's jaw dropped along with the towel he was holding to his neck. _"Sh..shawn? Do that again." _The shock in the black man's voice had Henry diverting his attention from the yet unwashed dishes to his defeated son. Really not wanting an audience, but _needing_ to make sure Gus got the message, Shawn signed again, this time it was a bit smoother as his memories from that day had played completely through.

"God I didn't think you retained any of that kid." An indignant look crossed Shawn's face for a millisecond but it quickly gave way back to the expressionlessness he had worn since coming home from the hospital. Henry's heart soared when he saw that look on his son's face, because this had been the second time in as many days that a bit of the old Shawn shone through. "Well, we can 'talk' now at least." Shawn gave a small nod and went back to staring at the ground. "How about you get ready and you guys leave early for the office, that way you don't run into any traffic." Another small nod and then almost sheepishly he walked out of the kitchen toward the stairs. Once he heard his son ascending the steps Henry turned to his other son. "Gus are you really ok?"

"Physically yeah I think I am but I've never seen him look like that Mr. Spencer." He bent over and started to wipe up the quickly melting ice with the discarded towel. "He looked like he was going to kill me. _Like he wanted to kill me." _Done with the chore of cleaning up the cold water, he stood fully and looked Henry dead in the eyes. "I was genuinely scared that he wasn't going to stop." Shuddering at the thought he searched his adopted father's face for an answer.

"He wasn't." Gus raised his eyebrows in shock. "Gus he was fighting to kill, he wasn't going to let you up, I saw it in his eyes." Henry sighed and shook his head. "He was going to continue until you stopped breathing Gus." It almost looked like Henry aged ten years in the span of seconds. "Makes you wonder what he went through in that hell hole."

"Maybe now we'll know." Henry grunted in agreement and went back to the breakfast dishes.

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQ

Shawn knew his friend couldn't help it but the constant glancing and the occasional starting was definitely getting annoying. Once he felt the chocolate brown eye on his person, yet again, he turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him in question which caused Gus to jerk his head back to his computer screen. "Ummmm...there is some old mail I thought you would want to see somewhere on your desk." Shawn nodded and began to flip through the numerous papers that had piled up on his desk till he came to an enormous stack of unopened envelopes. "I didn't know if you wanted them in the hospital, than all that happened afterward I completely forgot about them till last week." Shawn opened the piece of mail that was on top of the pile and was shocked to see a get well card in there. He read the inscription inside and felt his heavy heart lighten. Sitting down he began to slowly work his way through the pile, his shock just multiplied with each and every card. complete strangers had sent him well wishes, hope and more than one had said how brave he was. After about two hours of this he had gotten down to the last few letters on his desk when he came across one with the envelope sealed, the couple hundred he had read before this had previously been opened, presumably by Gus, and for that he was grateful because he was sure there was hate mail that his friend had thrown out. Well knowing Gus he probably burned it first then swept the ashes into the dumpster.

For some reason the graceful swoops that made up his name on the front of the parcel made his skin crawl and his blood go cold. He knew this writing but from where was the question; there were so many people who had singled him out in his life it was difficult to pinpoint. _Hopefully this is one of the small potato crazies like Yang._

_QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQ  
_

It hadn't dawned on Carlton, till it was too late, that he had turned onto the road where the Psych office was located. The gruff detective was never one to coddle his partner but after everything that had happened to the man she loved he definitely did not want to add to strain that the young blonde was under. "O'Hara, I'm..."

"Don't worry about it Carlton, it's not like you turned here on purpose." She closed her eyes and leaned against the window on the passenger side. "In fact, I know you avoid this road, _and Henry's,_ at all cost."

Clenching his jaw and tightening his grip on the wheel till his knuckles turned white, the detective wanted to stop the car and beat the ever loving shit out of the first person who crossed his path. "Still O'Hara, I'm supposed to look out for you. I need to have your back."

"And you do." She reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But you also need to let me try and deal with this as well."

"I know." The man continued down the road as quick as he dared so that he didn't subject his partner to more torture. "_Dammit."_ He knew that if he saw it then his partner_ definitely_ did.

"That's Gus's car, we should stop and say hi." Juliet had plastered a smile on her face and while Carlton normally wouldn't believe it he saw the glint in her eyes that said she really wanted to do this. "It's been weeks since I've seen him." Reluctantly Carlton nodded and pulled his Focus into the parking spot next to the blue Echo. He watched as his partner took a few steadying breaths and strengthen her resolve.

"You know one day, O'Hara, you're going to have to tell someone what happened between you and Spencer in that hospital room." The glare he received was worthy of, well, him. The tall man shrugged his shoulders and met the woman's glare. "I don't like what its done to you, that's all."

"Well, like I said, I need to deal with this and I will do it my way." Before anything else could be said she opened her door and swung her legs out of the cabin. Knowing when to keep his mouth shut, Carlton took the keys out of the ignition and followed her.

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQq

"Shawn? Are you ok?" Shawn looked up from the still not opened letter and nodded at his very concerned looking partner. "I'm hungry, how's about we get some lunch?" He normally would've shook his head in the negative but during the past few hours all the encouraging words had him feeling the best he had in almost a year. Another small nod was greeted by a big smile which grew exponentially when Shawn signed 'jerk chicken?' and on autopilot raised his fist. "You know that's right." Gus gladly returned the bump and set about getting the office ready for them to go and get some food. Shawn decided that the letter could wait and maybe, just maybe, he could have Gus or his dad open it first. "All ready?" He gave another nod and watched as his friend snatched the keys off his respective desk and then look up in shock when the door of the office swung open.

"Gus, you in here?" Both men froze at the lyrical tone of Juliet's voice. "Gus?" The light click clack of heels stopped suddenly when she entered the main room and saw that Gus was not alone. "Shawn?" The man in question good mood suddenly turned one eighty and he slunk back to his desk and started to stare at the letter again.

"Juliet and," The man leaned over and saw her uncomfortable partner in the foyer. "Carlton. What brings you two here?"

The blonde's eyes never left the man at the desk as she talked. "We saw your car and, since I haven't seen you in awhile, I wanted to visit." She didn't know why but Shawn was studying an envelope like it held all the answers to his questions. An eerie silence settled over the building as all but one present didn't know what to say or do next. The one shakily worked the letter opener past the adhesive holding the envelope closed and sliced the letter open efficiently.

Picking up the piece of paper that fell out, he read the neatly scrawled words and felt his heart rate triple. "Shawn?" The worry in the young detective's voice brought her partner out of foyer.

"Spencer?" Carlton noticed the slight shaking of the white piece of paper and the intense grip he had on what looked like letter opener with a pineapple shaped handle. In all the years the man had been a head detective he had seen more than enough breakdowns and he knew that he was about to be privy to another. Moving as slow as he dared he inched his way to the man who had gone as white as the piece of parchment he was holding. _"Shawn, look at me."_ The young man did but the shaking only continued to grow worse.

"_Shawn, what's wrong_?" Hazel eyes flicked over to the woman standing in the middle of the room then back to the letter. Shawn now knew where the letter had come from and he wished to God that he had let his father, _hell anyone_, open the letter that was not him. He was aware only minutely that he had sliced opened his hand and it was dripping blood over the desk he was standing over. Looking back up he saw that Carlton had inched to such a close proximity he was close enough to reach out and grab him.

Not wanting that to happen because it meant he would have to face three of the people he cared most about in life, Shawn threw down both the letter and the opener and rushed past them before they could react. He knew that he wasn't as fast as he was a year ago but he could still continue at a pace of a slow jog and speed had nothing to do with the ability to hide.

Gus had ran after his best friend as he sprinted out of the door but quickly lost him as Shawn ran into a crowd. _"Dammit, Shawn." _He jogged back to the Psych office and saw the two detectives surrounding the desk. "I lost him. What is in that letter?"

Juliet looked up, tear streaks staining her cheeks. "Until next time."

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ QQQQQQQQQQ

He watched as the target jogged out of the Psych office and sprinted toward the boardwalk, his friend hot on his trail. He shook his head because he knew the target wanted to disappear and that man was very good at that. A smile crossed his face when the dark skinned man that was giving chase lost the other man in the crowd and went back to the office building. "Knew you'd lose him." The man paid for his coffee, stood, and followed Shawn from a careful distance.


	5. See How Deep the Bullet Lies

Henry was mad, _no,_ he was beyond pissed; there wasn't a time that the man had ever remembered being this angry. When Gus called him from the Psych office the older Spencer felt his blood pressure hit the limit of human possibilities. Instead of going to the Psych office first he had driven to the department, he needed more answers than Gus could give him, _he needed to see that letter._ He felt eyes on him as he entered the bullpen but he ignored them dutifully as he be lined it to the office where his former partner was residing. Not bothering to knock he slammed the door open. "You LOST him!?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carlton and Juliet stand and try to navigate past him in the office, he spun and pointed at them menacingly "You two don't get to leave. Now sit." He only felt a minute bit of remorse as he saw tear stains on the young blonde detective's face, but he had larger problems than a crying woman.

"Henry you have no right," Spinning back around to woman at the desk he leaned over it and glared at the woman effectively shutting her up. Every conceived question he had so that he would get a clearer picture of why his son ran off was blocked by blind fury.

"Let me tell you something, _Karen_, you have no right." The spat words caused the woman to flinch violently. He then pointed at the detectives that were seated behind him. "They have no right. A year ago you lost the right," He stood and pointed at the area behind the still open door. "**Everyone here," **The entire bullpen stopped what they were doing and looked up and into the incensed eyes of Henry Spencer as he continued. "Lost the right when you failed him." Silence reigned as the older man stormed back through the bullpen and out the precinct's doors.

Getting into his old Ford, Henry silently cursed at himself as his vision cleared from the red anger he had just experienced. He knew he couldn't walked back in there and start his inquiry, he had just burned a major bridge, a bridge that was already being held together with empty wishes and hollow sympathy. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel till he bruised his palm, the satisfying throbbing pain was, yet another way the man was punishing himself for his own failing.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTT

_ Henry was woken up frantic pounding, jerking in his recliner it took him a few seconds to realize the noise was coming from his front door. "Who the hell?" _

_"DAD!" Only a few times in his life had he heard his son this distraught and during those few times they always involved someone Shawn loved. The pounding grew more intense and the older man swore he heard a sob, suddenly he couldn't get out of the chair and to the door fast enough. Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a red eyed nearly hysterical son was revealed. _

_"Sha-" The name was cut short as the man in question nearly knocked him down as he rushed into the house. For a long moment there was only silence as Henry watched his son's form visibly shake. He knew he was not one to deal with emotions well, but his son came to him and whatever it may be the man was going to fix it. Knowing that demanding answers would only cause a shutdown he decided to give his son some time to regroup and start the conversation but Shawn didn't, instead the tremors grew worse. The former detective swallowed his pride and reached out, both physically and emotionally. "Shawn." He placed his hand lightly on his son's shoulder. "What happened, kid?" The muscles under his hand stiffened then were quickly ripped away from his grip as his son spun on his heel and faced him. The man that look back at him was not the carefree kid that left this morning, the younger man looked like he had aged twenty years, his eyes were glassy, rimmed with red, and every wrinkle that the man should had acquired in his thirty six years had not just appeared but deepened in the last couple of hours._

_"They took him, dad, the sons of bitches took him!" Henry was at a loss as to who 'him' and 'the sons of bitches' were but before he could ask, Shawn was answering. "This case the SBPD had us on, the one I couldn't tell you about." The older man nodded and followed his son as he stormed through the house to the kitchen where he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and popped it open, taking a long drag before he began again. "It led to Ivan Breskovic," Henry involuntarily sucked in a gasp of air. "He was mostly harmless till a few months ago when he started the process of bringing in a new drug called Krockodil." Shawn's angry rant couldn't be stopped although Henry so desperately wanted to know who was taken. "It's a type of cheap heroin that eats the flesh of the users. He was going make millions off of it but," The younger man closed his eyes. " I, along with the SBPD, was able find the port and stop it before it even started." Sighing deeply he continued. "What we didn't know was the DEA and the feds were trying to move in on him, he was going to try and flood the entire western border with this drug, not just Santa Barbara. His main target was elementary age kids, so they asked for my help figuring I could do it again. I said yes, but I kept it quiet, I didn't even tell Gus." A ragged sob escape his lips and in that instant Henry had his answer as to who was taken. "He was at work and they just took him out of the parking lot, no one claims to have seen anything and the chief won't let me help with the investigation. She says I'm too close that I would only hinder it." He leaned against the counter the edge digging into his palms as his frustration continued to build. "Dad I don't know what to do." Shawn looked up from the counter and met his father's gaze; Henry met the haunted stare and no longer saw his full grown son consultant for the SBPD, instead he saw the scared ten year old boy that broke his wrist when he tried jumping over the train tracks, except this time the pain wasn't going to be fixed with a sucker and a doodle of a pineapple on plaster. _

_'Come to think of it that was when his pineapple obsession started.' Shaking the thought clear from his skull Henry set into action, he snatched the beer from his son's hand, dropped the can into the trash, and stormed through the house grabbing his coat and keys. "Let's go!" He was already halfway to the truck by the time Shawn caught up._

_"What are you going to do?" The utter sadness that had masked his son's features had turned to something more hopeful. _

_"Not stop till Gus is back home."_

If he only knew what was going to happen...

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTT

Karen watched in abject shock as her former partner stormed out of the precinct leaving behind a trail of guilt ridden detectives and uniforms. "Dammit Henry." She looked from her desolate faced team to the two detectives in her office. "Lassiter, O'Hara despite what Mr. Spencer has to say, you two are on the case and I expect immediate results." Solemn twin nods was her answer before they stood in unison and started their search for the wayward psychic.

Slowly she stood, closed her office door and after giving her officers one last glance closed the blinds and allowed her held back tears fall. Not having the energy to get back to her desk the blonde sunk down against her door and hugged her knees tightly to her body.

_Karen ran through the halls of the hospital as fast as her ill contrived footwear would allow. It was nearing midnight and she had just finally gotten her brain to quiet down enough to catch something that resembled sleep. Rounding the corner that lead to the ICU she slipped and if it wasn't for the weathered arms that caught her she would've been visiting the ER. As the man steadied her, she caught hauntingly familiar blue eyes. "Henry," She took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. "How is he?" She searched his face for some sort of answer but all she found was restrained anger._

_"He's alive, that's all I know." He parted with an indignant look and hard footfalls. The blonde watched as the man who she saw as a brother sit down heavily in a waiting room chair and his body take on the weight of the world. _

_ She knew she was at an impasse; she could either leave and probably never see or hear from the Spencer family again or she could sit next to her partner and wait it out with him. "Probably never going to forgive me, anyways." Taking a long shuddering breath she prepared to leave but her eyes caught the pink fluff that adorned her feet. Looking up at the ceiling to try and school her feelings she felt a tear slip out of the corner of her eye at the memory that unwillingly washed over her. Iris had been so proud that she had pick out a mother's day gift all by herself her face lit up with unbound joy as she watched her mother open the squishy package. If she were to be honest Karen, at first hated the slippers they were huge, and pink and, dammit, resembled bunnies. She didn't know how long she stood in the hall just staring at the, now worn, pieces of fluff but the next time she looked up she spotted Henry speaking with a doctor. A myriad of emotions crossed the man's face in the few minutes she watched the conversation, but the one that was clear, the one that gave her hope, was the tentative relief that stayed on it after the physician departed. Making her decision the soft padding sounds of the non existent 'no slip' tread on the slippers was her only companion as she took a seat next to Henry._

_The man held his face in his hands, his breathing was quick, and if she wasn't mistaken a few tears were hitting the linoleum as they slipped past his clenched fingers. Better at discussing emotions than her counterpart she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Henry."_

_The man lifted his head and scoffed. "They cut his leg off Karen, they cut it off and he's in a coma till the doctors think he is out of danger enough to wake him up. They don't want to stress his body out anymore than necessary and __**apparently**__ laying in bed and watching a television is too much." He shook his head and met her watery eyes. "Why are you __**here**__?"_

_The woman expected the question but the anger behind the words was something she never fathomed. "Because I care about him." Henry scoffed again and ran a hand over his head in frustration._

_"You __**care**__ about him?" Karen would have preferred yelling over the accusatory hissed whisper. "Then where were you when he needed you? When we needed you?" He gave a mirthless chuckle. "That's right you pushed him out of Gus's investigation and then the instant he went missing you pulled the cops who knew him best off the search and handed it over to the feds who haven't come anywhere near the man who took him. You are the reason he is in there right now, minus a limb and fighting for his life. If you had just let me..." He trailed off as if he realized that he had said too much._

_"Henry, what did you do?" She felt bile rise in the back of her throat at the glassy eyed look he gave her._

_"He has enemies who keep track of him." Henry stood and walked away, leaving Karen in the hard plastic chair waiting for his return that never happened._

_TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T  
_

A light tapping on the glass behind her had the detective uncurling herself and standing up on protesting joints. "Chief Vick?" She wiped at her eyes and sighed.

"Give me one second, McNab." She walked around her desk, retrieved the small hand mirror from her drawer and groaned at her disheveled look. The blonde smoothed her hair down and grabbed a tissue in a futile attempted to wipe the smudged makeup off her face. When the door cracked opened and revealed a meek looking Buzz she nearly snapped at him to leave but she softened as he gave her a sad smile. "What do you have, McNab?" She continued to look in the mirror as the officer slipped inside and gently closed the door with a click.

"I have some messages for you and some files that you need to sign." Karen furrowed her brow in confusion but Buzz started to answer to unasked question. "I figured you needed a minute so I fielded your calls and took any internal messages."

Karen put the mirror back and gave the young officer a genuine small which he returned and for a moment everything felt right, a moment she filed away because there was so little that felt normal these days. "Thank you, McNab." She took the proffered paper and nodded in gratitude. When he didn't immediately leave like normal she sat down at her desk and motioned for him to sit down as well. "Something on your mind?" When the usually jovial officer looked at her like a kid who just found out there is no Santa, she knew that her recently wiped eyes weren't going to stay dry for long.

"Mr. Spencer was right we failed him," The lost look on the young man's face made Karen curse the man Henry Spencer for even being born. "_I failed him_." She watched as the perpetual joy left the tall man and he seemed to collapse in on himself.

"McNab," The unshed tears in the man's eyes caused her own tears to form. "Buzz," She swallowed and thanked God that the door was closed. "We didn't fail him, _you _didn't fail him. Sometimes bad things happen to good people."

"And Shawn was one of the best." The tears were no longer unshed as they quietly rolled down his cheeks. "Still is." For what seemed like forever the occupants of the room were left with their thoughts, _their regrets, _till he broke the silence. "What do we do now?"

If she knew that she was going to be looking _down_ into McNab's eyes as they both shed pent up tears she would've made sure she put on waterproof mascara, but she was thankful it was him and not another one of her officers. She swallowed deeply and came to a conclusion. "I think you need to go home, take some time, hug Francine, and hold your baby girl; come back after the weekend." She could see the protests starting to form in his mind but she knew how to handle them. "That's an order from your superior, McNab." He nodded, stood and was reaching for the door handle when she stopped him. "As a friend, though, Buzz I wish I could tell you what to do but _honestly_ I don't know myself." One minute she was standing there feeling more alone than ever and the next she was being enveloped in the arms of this bear of a man, but instead of trying to break the hug she let herself and her tears go as she sobbed into the younger man's chest.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Buzz was sitting down in the driver's seat of his car with a heavy heart and mind, he had seen many things as an officer but the one thing he thought he would never see was the unflappable Karen Vick have an emotional breakdown. Even more shocking than that he was the solace she sought as she released her pent up feelings. The shock of her shed tears caused his thoughts to be fuzzy and for the life of him he still couldn't remember what happened afterward but apparently he had left the station, driven home, and was now sitting outside his home. He didn't even know how long he had been sitting out there till Francine was tapping on the window of the passenger side looking worried. "Buzzy, honey, is everything ok?" He nodded and got out of the vehicle which his wife rounded and didn't looked convinced by his answer. "Don't lie to me mister." She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. "Now tell me what's going on." The genuine love and caring in her tone lightened his heavy heart some, the soft mewling sound coming from the bundled blanket that was nestled in the crook of her arm almost fully emptied the heaviness. The beaming smile that grew on his wife's face caused his own to grow. "Looks like someone wants their daddy." Soon the light but familiar weight of his daughter was settling in his arms as he and Francine made their way up the walk to the front door.

"I had a rough day at work." He tilted his head toward the three month old. "I'll tell you everything after Shana goes down for a nap." At the mention of her name the little baby smiled brightly and cooed loudly.

"She certainly is living up to her namesake." Buzz gave a sad smile to this comment because he would give anything for her namesake to be half as happy as she appeared to be right now. The petite woman walked past her husband, settled onto the couch and sipped at the mug of tea that was perched on the coffee table. She looked up and watched as Buzz danced around the living room humming softly to their daughter. "I love you."

"Love you too." He slowly made his way to her and placed a kiss on her head. "I'm just going to put your twin down for a nap and then I'll come out here." She smiled sweetly at her husband and continued to watch as he swayed up the hall to the nursery.

Once safely ensconced in the light blue room Buzz felt a woosh of relief hit him at the sight of the familiar area. "Hey baby girl, let's get you changed then it's nap time missy." His daughter's big brown eyes looked up at him trustingly as he changed her diaper and put her in something warmer, frowning slightly at the only available outfit. "We'll have to go shopping soon, won't we." He kissed her brow as he settled into the glider, snuggled her in close, and began rocking.

_TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTT  
_

_He could only hear the thud of his heartbeat as he stood in the center of the building, an old metalworks if he wasn't mistaken. The December air held an unexpected chill to it, his breath coming out in steamed puffs as he pulled his jacket tighter around him. He closed his eyes and blew out a large breath through his lips. He could hear Gus's stuttered statement, the noise CSU made as they tagged, bagged, and photographed everything they deemed as evidence, the countless footsteps of every officer there, and the low murmuring of a hundred voices. Opening his eyes once more he didn't see the empty building anymore, instead he saw Gus being dragged across the floor, Shawn pressing the muzzle of a Sig P226 to his throat, the blood splatter out of the back of his friend's skull. _

_A light metallic rattle snapped him back to reality where all he saw now was little yellow markers scattered across the floor, fingerprint dust, and the now dried crimson liquid. He looked around to find the source of the clanging spotting chains hanging from the ceiling being blown by the light wind. The young officer could almost hear the workers moving the machinery and the sound of booted footsteps on the grated walkway above him. His tentative footfalls, though, were the only real steps in the desolate building. Buzz never thought he would ever see a time when the entire SBPD was so affected by a missing person case that he could almost physically see their souls leave. _

_He certainly had felt his take a major blow as Officer Newton took Gus's statement. Even the balding officer, who usually just put up with Shawn's antics, needed a moment to collect himself as the events were retold. It wasn't until Henry Spencer arrived on scene till everything fully sunk in. When he spotted the older man, Buzz felt his hope soar because if anyone could find the psychic it would be his father but quickly any faith they had was demolished with a sentence. "I don't see anything new." He would never forget how defeated the man looked and for the first time the tall man saw him as old. _

_The soft clanging rose in tempo as the wind began to gust through the slats of the factory wall and it was only then he realized how truly cold it was starting to get. Flexing his now numb fingers he pulled the hood of the jacket on, noting that he had also lost feeling in feet and nose. "Must be colder than I thought." A light pattering on the aged tin roof had the officer looking up in utter disbelief, he knew what that noise was but there was no way he was hearing correctly. "Can't be." His curiosity and need to get to the warm confines of his cruiser won out so he prepared for the unbelievable and stepped out of the building turned crime scene only to be met with something he hadn't encountered since his childhood._

_It looked like the glitter department from Michaels during christmas time without the annoyance of it clinging to you clothes. He turned his head skyward, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. He wasn't quite sure as to why he felt the need to catch the flakes, but there he was allowing the little flakes of ice melt on his tongue an aftertaste of salt lingering. It wasn't until the phone on his hip vibrated did he stop. The simple text message 'Bring home tea' for some reason brought a small smile to his face and realization; while his world seemed to have stopped, while it hurt almost physically to the point of incapacitation there were people who needed him. namely his wife and their unborn child. _

_TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTT  
_

"What'cha thinking about there?" He lifted his head up from the glider and smiled at his wife who had poked her head in to check on him and Shana. She motioned with her finger. "She's asleep come and join me." Looking down at the small infant on his chest he saw that not only was she asleep but she had fisted his shirt in her tiny hands and drooled a sizeable patch in the same spot that his boss had sobbed into earlier. "Let me." The bulky man watched in awe as his wife managed to undo the little fists and put her in the crib without as much as a whimper, then she held out her hand which he grasped and followed as she walked out of the room.

"We need to go clothes shopping for her all she has is blue." Francine laughed quietly and shook her head.

"Ok so you're going to avoid the big thing with this tiny problem." He just shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to her on the couch. "Well it's not my fault the ultrasound was wrong and we had nothing but blue." She sat back on the couch and gestured with her hands for him to lay down which he did placing his head in her lap. As she ran her fingers through his hair he felt his muscles slowly relax. "Now are you gonna tell me why you're home early?"

Buzz sighed deeply and snuggled deeper into his resting spot. "It's about Shawn..."

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTT

Shawn was sitting on a dock about ten miles from the Psych office contemplating jumping in when a man in a pressed suit perched next to him on the bench. "I wouldn't if I were you." He gave a sidelong glance to the man and rolled his eyes with more emotion than thought possible. "You know jump in, especially after you almost shot yourself this morning, people'll talk." When the faux psychic failed to show any shock in the revelation the suited man smiled. "So how long have you known?" He huffed and gave a knowing look to the man who just laughed this time. "I know sign language by the way."

'_Good' _ Shawn grimaced slightly as the cut on his hand was stretched and it started to bleed again to which he huffed at.

"Must be some blood thinners in the meds you take." Doing the 'give me' motion with his hands Shawn thrusted it at him with another roll of his eyes. "Let me just bandage it for you." With more patience than he normally had these days the young man allowed for the cut to be cleaned and wrapped from the small first aid kit the other man had retrieved from his jacket pocket. "There we go, good as new."

'_I think I'm going to leave' _ He shifted and waited as 'the suit' took out his cell and texted to whoever was more important than the man who he was following.

"Where to?" A shrug was his answer. "Well it doesn't really matter, now do it?" Another shrug. "Well wherever you go we'll be seeing you." 'The suit' patted his shoulder, stood, and held out a hand which Shawn accepted.

Standing up as gently as possible, his leg giving a slight throb from its excessive usage, he sighed and signed '_maybe' _before he walked away from the man in the business suit.


End file.
